


By Finger's-Breadth

by roebling



Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Bloodplay, Comeplay, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, M/M, Nail Polish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-20 09:57:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roebling/pseuds/roebling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Himchan's mom owned a nail salon; he knows a nice pair of hands when he sees them. (Manicure!Kink)</p>
            </blockquote>





	By Finger's-Breadth

**Author's Note:**

> This grew out of a twitter conversation between myself, [almostblue](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalaspect/pseuds/almostblue), J, & M on twitter. Thank you all of them for the inspiration and to almostblue for the read through <3333 This is pretty much entirely gratuitous, so uh, enjoy if it's your thing!

It started because …

Well, Yongguk still doesn’t quite know why. But he knows when.

*****

“What are you doing?”

Yongguk frowns. Dance practice _hurts_ : sore wrists, bruised knees, aching back. There’s not enough time to rest or enough hot water in the shower to soothe away the ache; all the trainees know the company is making final selections soon. Nothing is as important as practicing.

He cracked a fingernail. It hurts, and he’d been worrying it. Yongguk always keeps his hands and nails clean and neatly trimmed. His father taught him that. Right now, he’s got more pressing matters to worry about.

“Don’t do that.” Kim Himchan grabs his hand. Himchan’s hands are warm, and larger than Yongguk’s. They’re friends, now, but still, this is a bit strange.

“Um.” 

Himchan glances up at him. “You’ve got really beautiful hands,” he says. Then, “I grew up in my mom’s salon.”

“Ah.” Yongguk guesses that would explain it.

“Don’t pull it off, though,” Himchan says. “Just wait. I can fix it for you later.”

He drops Yongguk’s hand and smiles a goofy smile. Yongguk knows Himchan got into the company on the strength of his looks. He’s still not quite sure how that happened. “‘The first thing people notice about you is the state of your hands’. My mother always said that.”

“Ah,” Yongguk says. “Well, I guess I should listen to your mother. Um. If she owned a salon and all.”

Himchan grins even wider. Yongguk wonders when they’ll get to the ‘how to not be completely awkward’ portion of idol training. He wonders if he’ll make it that far.

*****

“There you are.” 

Yongguk looks up. It’s Himchan. He’s showered and changed and carrying a little purple box - the kind Yongguk’s sister used to keep her makeup in when she was a kid.

“Hi,” Yongguk says, shutting his laptop. He’s not doing anything weird or bad, but it’s nothing he really thinks Himchan needs to see.

“You have time now, or …?”

It’s quarter after midnight, and they have to be back at the studio by seven. Still, he has as much time now as he ever has. But he hadn’t thought Himchan was serious. “I can trim my own fingernails,” he says.

Himchan nods. “Good for you. I’m not going to do that.”

Yongguk pulls his hands off the table and into his lap. He frowns.

“Calm down,” Himchan says. “I’m just going to give you a manicure. It’s not going to _hurt_.”

Yongguk doesn’t know much about manicures: his mother’s nails glossy and pink before a wedding, the black polish his sister wore that made his father scream. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

Himchan rolls his eyes. “Oh, please,” he says, taking files and pointy looking tools and little bottles out of the case. “It’s nothing.”

Apparently, Yongguk isn’t going to be allowed to refuse. That's fine. It's a bit odd, but he thinks Himchan is just trying to be nice. Yongguk knows that if he does not get a place on the team it's not going to be because he lacks musical ability, or even because he can't dance. The company has told him many times that being sociable is as important to an idol as the other two.

Himchan lays a folded towel on the table in front of Yongguk. He fills a bowl with warm water at the tap. He lines all the files and pointy looking up things up neatly.

"Okay," he says. "Give me your hand."

Yongguk holds his right hand out; Himchan takes it. He looks at each of Yongguk's fingers, his rough, square fingers surprisingly gentle. "Hmm," he says, and he picks up a file.

Yongguk's hand looks strange, he thinks, cradled in Himchan's. He tries to think of the last time he held hands with someone who wasn't either a member of his family or a girl. It's been a while. He’s never really been that fond of physical affection.

"You learned this from your mother?" Making conversation is polite.

Himchan looks up, tosses his head to get his long hair out of his eyes. "Yeah," he says. "She used to do my nails when I was a kid, even though it made my dad mad."

"Ah." Nothing really comes to mind to say in response. "It's a good skill to have," he says finally.

Himchan looks up, squinting. "Is it? I don't know if I'd want to have to touch people's hands and feet all day …" He files the nail on Yongguk's index finger down a bit more. "Most people don't have hands as nice as yours." Then he looks up and grins. "I mean that from a purely professional perspective, of course."

"Are they nice?" Yongguk never knew.

Himchan nods. "Sure," he says. "You have really elegant fingers, and your skin is really soft." He shakes his head. "I ruined my hands."

He sets aside the file and picks up one of the other little tools. 

"They look fine to me," Yongguk says.

Himchan shrugs, not looking up. "Calluses and blisters, from the guitar. More blisters, from percussion. And now the dancing is just messing them up even more."

"You play guitar?" Yongguk hadn't known. Maybe it isn't fair to assume Himchan passed the audition on the strength of his looks alone.

"Guitar, violin, clarinet, flute, and classical percussion," Himchan says. "Which is what I'm supposed to be studying in college."

Something clicks in Yongguk's mind. The careful, deliberate way he holds Yongguk's hand in his (softly, but firm and with purpose) reminds Yongguk of the way he might hold an instrument.

"Is it okay if I leave your nails long?" Himchan has Yongguk's fingers resting on his. His hands are warm and a little red; Yonguk's are cooler and much paler. "They're already pretty long and I think they'd look really nice with an oval shaped nail."

Yongguk nods. He should keep up the conversation but it's hard not to focus on what Himchan is doing. He's switched hands, and with careful precise movements he's filing Yongguk's nails down. He must have done this before: each nail is just the same shape: an oval tapered at the end, like an almond.

"This might hurt a little bit," Himchan says, holding up a pair of little silver nippers.

"Um," Yongguk says. He's not squeamish, exactly, but he doesn't like the sight of those.

"Relax," Himchan says. "I'm just going to clean up your cuticles."

It doesn't hurt, really. It just feels a bit weird as Himchan applies some kind of lotion and then nips away at the dead skin. Yongguk realizes he's holding himself completely still, barely even bothering to breathe. It's like the only thing he can feel is where Himchan's left hand holds his right, skin against skin, hot.

There's a sharp pain. A little red bead of blood wells up.

"Whoops," Himchan says. "Sorry, went a bit too deep."

The he brings Yongguk's finger to his mouth and (impossibly soft hot touch of his tongue) sucks the blood away.

Yongguk pulls his hand back.

Himchan stares, wide eyed, lips parted. "Whoops," he says. "Sorry, I didn't …" His eyes dart up, across, down, and back. "My mom would smack me for being unsanitary if she were here. Sorry."

"It's okay," Yongguk says, laying his hand back down on the white towel. There's a pink spot where Himchan cut him, but it's not bleeding any more. "It's okay. I was just … startled."

"Ah," Himchan says. "Sorry." He ducks his head so his hair falls in his face. "I'll give advance warning next time."

"It's okay," Yongguk says again. "Um, are you finished or …"

"No," Himchan says. "Almost there."

He takes Yongguk's hand again. His hands are even hotter now, and a bit sweaty. He finishes nipping, and then takes a bottle of oil and massages it into each of Yongguk's fingers, rubbing it deep into his fingertips, into the dry sky around his nails. It doesn't tickle, exactly … Yongguk can't really say what it feels like.

He likes it.

Himchan wipes off the oil and takes out a little rectangular block. "Last step." He rubs it against the surface and tip of each of Yongguk's nails, leaving them smooth and glassy and surprisingly pink. Yongguk shifts in his seat. He feels like … He feels like most of the nerve endings in his body are in his fingertips, right now. He shivers when the buffer catches on a bit of roughness on the edge of his nail.

"Hmm," Himchan says. He takes Yongguk's hands in his, one at a time. He turns them over to look at the palm, looks at each finger, and lays them flat on the towel.

"All done," he says. "What do you think? I could have done better if I were at the salon and I had the proper supplies but I did what I could here."

Yongguk blinks. All done? He bites his lip. He feels a bit strange, sort of like after having a haircut, but better. His nails look pretty, and strangely delicate.

"I like it," he says. "It looks good. Thank you Kim Himchan."

Himchan smiles at him, a small, uneven smile that's not far from a smirk. "You're welcome. I recommend you get a manicure every two weeks for best results." He leans forward. "I won't even make you tip me."

*****

“Can I help you?” The woman smiles at him, cool and professional, and he knows she probably wonders why a guy is age is at a nail salon. 

If she only knew. 

Yongguk found the salon after he saw it in Himchan's search history. (He hadn't been snooping, only looking for the link to a video they’d watched the night before.) There were a lot of pictures on the website: rainbow nails and nails with gemstones and trinkets and translucent nails embedded with glitter and long nails with so many decorations that Yongguk's not sure how the person wearing them would manage.

“Um, yes, please. I’d like to buy a present for my … for a friend. To get a manicure.”

She nods. “We have several standard packages available,” she says, “if you’d like to make an appointment for your friend. Of course, it may be easier for her to make the appointment herself, if she has very particular tastes.” 

Yongguk nods. “Yes,” he says. “I think that would be best.” 

*****

Three days until debut, and Yongguk feels like he hasn’t had a chance to stand still in a month. He _doesn’t_ have time now, but Himchan insists.

“You need to calm down,” Himchan says. He takes Yongguk’s hand in his, and massages each finger, pulling and rubbing at the tiny muscles. “I can feel how tense you are. You’re going to make the dongsaengs nervous.” 

“Sorry,” Yongguk says. “We just need to do well, Himchan. No … we need to be perfect.” 

“Best, absolute, perfect?” Himchan grins. 

Yongguk can’t help but laugh. It’s not that the name is _bad_ exactly, but … Well, he trusts the company. “Yes. Best. Absolute. Perfect.” 

“It’s going to be fine,” Himchan says. “Just relax now and let me take care of you.” 

Yongguk nods. It does feel really good, the way Himchan’s working all the tension out with quick, firm motions. “You’ve gotten better at this.” 

Himchan smiles. His blonde hair - still so strange - falls in his face. “Remember the place we went to get facials?” 

Yongguk remembers soft lighting and nice smells, and the dongsaengs laughing like the goofy teenage boys they are. 

“They advertised reflexology there,” Himchan says. “I went back and asked if they could show me some.” 

“I really like it,” Yongguk says. He does really like it, so much. Himchan works with such purpose moving up each finger in turn. It hurts a little bit, but mostly it just feels like a lot. He can feel so much, in fact, that he thinks he could recognize the texture of Himchan’s skin from the slightest touch now.

“Okay,” Himchan says, patting Yongguk’s hands gently. Yongguk closes his eyes and stays very still while Himchan goes through the whole routine: filing, shaping, buffing. He likes that he can tell what Himchan’s doing just by how it feels, and by the tiny sound of the file rasping against his nails. He likes having all of Himchan’s attention focused - not on him, exactly, but on his hands, on the process, on what he’s _doing_ to Yongguk. 

Yongguk would be a liar if he didn’t admit to thinking about that same focus applied to other pursuits. 

“We’re going to try something a little bit different today,” Himchan says. “In honor of our debut.” 

He takes a little red bottle out of the case, and shakes it. 

“Himchan, I don’t know if …” 

Himchan rolls his eyes. “Relax, Bbang. It’ll be fine.” He smiles, and takes another bottle out - hot pink, this time. “I’m going to do mine too. We’ll take it off in the morning.” 

Carefully, Himchan unscrews the square lid of the bottle - 

“Chanel?” Yongguk rolls his eyes. 

Himchan shrugs. “It’s my sister’s. I wanted to use something nice, for your first time.” His dopey smile gives him away. 

Yongguk just laughs. 

He is quick and efficient, using the fewest brush strokes possible. Yongguk _likes_ it - likes the way the bright red looks against the white towel, against his skin, likes the way it makes his hands look different, like a stranger’s hands. 

Himchan does a second coat. He’s so careful: not even a drop goes where he doesn’t want it. 

“Okay,” he says. “Don’t touch anything while they dry, Bbang.” 

While Himchan does his own nails - shorter and squarer, but still very nice - Yongguk holds up his hands. His long nails are perfectly, evenly red: the color of wet blood. They’re not pretty, now. Dangerous maybe. Beautiful, for sure.

He wonders what those hands would look like against Himchan’s pale, pale skin. 

Himchan finishes doing his own nails and flaps his hands around, ridiculous, drying them. “You like it, huh?” 

Yongguk nods. “I like it a lot,” he says. 

“I thought you would,” Himchan says. He scrunches his face awkwardly. 

“Oh,” he says. “Oh, Bbang. I’ve got an itch _right there_... Your nails should be dry now.” 

Himchan looks up, throat long and bare, blond hair flopping. Yongguk scratches a spot just to the right of his nose. Himchan closes his eyes and exhales. “That’s it,” he says. “You’re the best, Bbang.” 

For no reason other than he wants to and he think it would look nice, Yongguk drags his red nail down across Himchan’s full lower lip. Himchan looks at him, calm and intent, and then opens his mouth and sucks Yongguk’s finger in. His teeth tickle, firm, and his tongue is soft and hot. 

Yongguk pulls his hand away. Really, Himchan is just … 

Himchan grins, wide and pleased. “Come on,” he says. “We don’t have all day.” 

Yongguk’s hands are shaking. He breathes in, deep, and leans down to kiss Himchan, slow and soft and everything he’s wanted without even knowing it. 

*****

"Sir," the woman asks, "will that be all?"

Yongguk startles. "Uhhh …"

"The gift certificate," she says. "Will that be all?"

"Ah, yes," he says. "Thank you."

She takes his card and rings him up, and hands over the gift card, in a glittery gold and black envelope.

"I hope she enjoys it," she says, beaming at him.

"Hmm?"

"Your girlfriend," she says. "I hope she enjoys her gift."

Yongguk blinks. Right. "Thank you," he says, at length. "Thank you. I'm sure she will."

*****

"Do you like it?" Yongguk stares at a spot on the table, a little to the left of one of the dishes of half-eaten cake.

It's Himchan's birthday. The cake is eaten. The balloons are sinking. The dongsaengs are in bed. Yongguk's waited to give his present because … well, just because. There's nothing _wrong_ with it. He just …

"I _love_ it, Bbang," Himchan says. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," Yongguk says, still staring at the table. "I thought that since you've done it for me for so long, you'd enjoy having someone do your nails too."

"You know I like that as much as you do," Himchan says, throwing an arm around Yongguk's shoulder, leaning close. "But thank you, Bbang. Believe me. I will."

*****

He doesn't ask Himchan what he's going to get before he leaves for his appointment.

"Don't you want to know?" Himchan asks, pouting, leaning on Yongguk's shoulders.

"Ah, no," Yongguk says. They're in between comebacks right now; he's not sure he wants to know how much license Himchan feels free to take. "Surprise me."

Himchan grins so big the stupid little dimple under his eye appears. "Oh, I will."

*****

"Well," Himchan says. "What do you think?"

It's … not as bad as it could be. It's actually … pretty nice.

Himchan's nails are long and square. Two thirds of each nail is painted matte black, with leopard print picked out over that in silver glitter. The other third is a shimmering grey with holographic bits. Tiny black gemstones divide the two sections. The ring finger of his left hand and the index finger of his right hand have appliqués in the shape of chubby little black bows with skulls in the center.

"I like it," Yongguk says, truthfully. In reality he'd been expecting a lot more neon.

Himchan huffs. "I can see it on your face, Bang Yongguk. You thought I was going to come back with Pokémon themed nails or something, didn't you?"

Yongguk grins. "You have been playing with Jongup a lot."

Himchan taps one pretty nail against his lower lip, thoughtful. "I could have done it based on each of types …." He shakes his head. "Ah well, next time."

*****

Himchan is having way too much fun with his nails. He makes Yongguk do all kind of ridiculous things for him, like tie his shoes and put the straw in his iced coffee. "I don't want to break one," he says, grinning, and then he pats Yongguk's cheek.

He finds a tea cup from somewhere, and makes Youngjae take a picture of him holding it, one pinky delicately out.

Youngjae rolls his eyes and takes the picture. Himchan immediately runs off to post it on Instagram, discretely cropped.

"Youngjae, you know Himchan hyung is just .." Yongguk doesn't want the kids to get the wrong idea - but he's not sure what the right idea is, either.

Youngjae just shrugs. "It's not really weirder than when he wore fake eyelashes that time."

Oh right. Yongguk had forgotten about that. "He's just … Himchannie."

Youngjae nods. "He definitely is, hyung." 

*****

“Photoshoot tomorrow,” Yongguk says. They are in Yongguk’s bunk, and Himchan’s head is on Yongguk’s stomach. The dongsaengs are all out - a rare and precious occurrence. 

Himchan holds his hand up, turns it back and forth so the gemstones catch the light. “I know, Bbang,” he says.

“You can always get them done again,” Yongguk says. 

“Hmm,” Himchan says. “I know the coordi noonas get some pretty strange ideas, but I’m not sure if I can sell them on this.” 

“Next time we’re on break then,” Yongguk says. 

Himchan laughs. His hair is fanned across Yongguk’s belly. It feels good. “So I shouldn’t hold my breath then, huh?” 

Yongguk grins. Okay, fine. Himchan has a point. They’re all pretty much used to working without rest at this point. “Sorry, Himchannie. I liked it too.” 

Himchan sighs. “It’s okay,” he says. “I’m prepared to say goodbye.” He wiggles his fingers. “But, Bbang, I’m thinking first we do something to remember this by.” 

*****

“Lower!” Himchan frowns. “Point that thing lower, Bbang.” 

Easy for Himchan to say. 

Yongguk closes his eyes and aims the phone lower. Yongguk’s thighs are over Himchan’s. It’s not the most comfortable position in the tight confines of the bunk, but he has to admit that the shot (down his stomach, muscle picked out in shadow and in light, the dark of his pubic hair, his dick, Himchan’s pretty hands, and beyond that, dim, his pale stomach) is well composed. 

“Better.” Himchan grins, and wraps a long-nailed hand around Yongguk’s cock. Gently, at first, he strokes Yongguk hard. 

“Lotion, Himchannie,” Yongguk says. He doesn’t like it too dry. 

Himchan lets the lotion drip onto Yongguk’s dick. It’s cold, and he tenses up. Himchan spreads it up and down, one hand braced against the base of Yongguk’s cock. It feels really good, and Himchan’s hands are all slick. His nails - gemstones, bows, sparkles - are dark against Yongguk’s skin. 

“Your hands look so pretty,” Yongguk says. He’s really bad at this talking during sex thing.

Himchan looks up. His eyes are dark. He wriggles the fingers of one hand. “They do,” he says. “Not as pretty as yours, though. Maybe next time we’ll go get our nails done together.” He tugs a bit on the head of Yongguk’s cock, fingers pointed, elegant. 

“Ah,” Yongguk says. “Ahhhh, but I … I like it when you do it for me.” 

Himchan smiles. “That’s sweet, Bbang.” 

Yongguk’s thighs hurt, and the angle is really bad. He has no purchase. Himchan links his fingers and jerks him two handed. Precome makes his hands even stickier. He pulls faster. Yongguk’s chest is red. 

Himchan’s grasp is firm - too tight, even. He runs his nail across Yongguk’s slit and it hurts and feels so good. Yongguk exhales. “Don’t tease.” 

“But you love it when I tease,” Himchan says, reproachful. He has one hand wrapped tight around the base, so Yongguk couldn’t come even if he wanted to (even if he wanted anything other than to look at Himchan’s hands on his dick forever). 

He pulls it out of Yongguk slowly, so it’s hard for him to keep still. He’s all wet, precome dripping onto Himchan’s fingers. Himchan runs his thumbnail across the underside of Yongguk’s dick, over the ridge, and Yongguk comes, in wet spurts, all over Himchan’s pretty hands. 

Himchan keeps jerking him, and it’s wetter and slicker with the slide of his come. Yongguk keeps the camera trained, even though what he wants to do is fall back, boneless. It hurts, a little, how hard Himchan’s holding onto him, milking him like he wants every last drop Yongguk’s got. 

“Done?” Yongguk asks. His voice sounds dark, and his elbow aches from where he’s holding himself up. 

“Not yet,” Himchan says. “Time for the closeup.” 

Yongguk rolls his eyes. Of course. Himchan’s hands are dripping, with lube and with Yongguk’s come. He sucks a finger into his mouth, smearing his lips. His other fingers fan out against his cheek. The nails are dark and glossy against his pale skin. He adds a second finger, then a third. His mouth is red and stretched. He drags his fingers down then, nails pressed into his lips, trailing down his chin, sharp and dark and … 

“Okay, cut,” Himchan says.

Yongguk laughs. “Yes, PD-nim.” Of course Himchan had it planned, shot by shot. 

Himchan grins. He grabs his tee shirt and wipes his hand, and then cleans off Yongguk. When he’s done, he tosses the dirty shirt on the floor. They’ve got a little while before the dongsaengs are due back. 

Yongguk sits up, and kicks the dirty sheet to the end of the bed. Himchan, happy and boneless, leans back against his chest. 

“Thanks, Bbangie.” 

“Good birthday present, then?” Yongguk can’t help but smile. He picked really well. 

Himchan nods. “Yes - both parts of it. I really liked it - a lot.” He walks two finger’s up Yongguk’s flush chest, and then glances up, grinning. “I wasn’t kidding when I said we should go together next time, though.” He takes Yongguk’s hand in his and links their fingers - Himchan’s nails, and Yongguk’s plain ones. “You’d look really pretty with some roses, don’t you think?” 

“Ummmm.” Yongguk doesn’t really have any personal affinity to roses. 

Himchan rolls his eyes. “I’m just kidding, Bbang. You can’t fool me. You’d totally get tiger stripes, wouldn’t you?”

Yongguk just grins.


End file.
